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Purity (Cursed #3)
Purity (Cursed #3)
Purity (Cursed #3)
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Purity (Cursed #3)

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*Completed Series*

Perdita’s life has gone back to normal in all of the worst ways, while Nathan doesn’t even recognise himself anymore. Still, they’re both trying to make do the best way they know how.

But when they finally catch sight of that flicker of light at the end of the tunnel, Vin plays his final, most deadly, hand.

Complete Cursed Series:

1. Verity
2. Clarity
2.5 Adversity
3. Purity

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 4, 2013
ISBN9781301782734
Purity (Cursed #3)
Author

Claire Farrell

Claire Farrell is an Irish author who spends her days separating warring toddlers. When all five children are in bed, she overdoses on caffeine in the hope she can stay awake long enough to write some more dark flash fiction, y/a paranormal romance and urban fantasy.

Read more from Claire Farrell

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    Purity (Cursed #3) - Claire Farrell

    Prologue

    Goodbyes

    June


    Perdita left her house, keys in hand, steeling herself for another trip to the hospital. Her father didn’t want to see her, so she would sit in the hallway again. At least he’d know she was there, and not with anyone else. Not choosing anyone over her family.

    Not this time.

    She turned a corner and felt a strange creeping sensation that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. She turned slowly, half-expecting a werewolf attack. It would be exactly like her nightmares.

    But it was him, standing there, looking at her as though nothing had changed.

    Everything had changed: her life, the magic, even her family. Nothing would ever be the same, and now she was forced to go through it alone.

    He was still the same boy she once dreamed about, the same boy who made her insides feel as though she had just ridden on a roller coaster when he looked at her. Except these days, the stress was permanently present in his expression. The bags under his eyes matched her own. The biggest difference was that he had become part of her nightmares.

    She should have turned back, kept going, but her foot took one step toward him, and his to her.

    His eyes locked on hers, and she fought the desire to run. She wanted to hear his voice one more time, to feel close to him just once more. Even though the curse that tied them together had broken, freeing them both, she still fought the need to be near him, next to him, a part of his life. She couldn’t imagine waking up and not wanting to be with him. She didn’t remember what that felt like.

    But she promised her father. A sincere promise, for a change.

    I came to say goodbye. The words burst from his mouth as if he had been waiting to say them for days. He glanced away, closed his eyes for a second, and began again.

    I mean… I came to tell you what’s going on. His cheeks flushed with colour, and she realised he pitied her, that this was embarrassing to him.

    The last lingering hope had already curled up and died inside her. You don’t owe me anything, she said as coldly as she could manage, hurt scrambling its way out of her mouth before she could stop it. Pride wouldn’t allow her to take back the words or soften the harsh edges of her tone. She had to protect herself.

    He retreated as if she had struck him, putting a clear distance between them. He gazed at her until she twitched, reminded of the times he’d drunk in her features as if committing them to memory. A reminder of everything she’d been trying to forget.

    Those days were gone, she told herself, and she turned to leave, but his voice caught her in its hold again, stopping her in her tracks.

    How’s your dad?

    The wrong words. Anger burned in her throat and bristled in her chest at her pain and frustration with everything in her life. It wasn’t his fault that her father lay in a hospital bed, but she couldn’t keep the anger from her eyes, nor the chill from her words.

    Worse. We had a fight before I went to take care of Amelia. Before… while I was gone, he relapsed from the stress. He begged me to stay, but I didn’t, so… She lowered her chin, unable to bear the sympathy in his eyes. She longed to reach out and touch him, to find the comfort she needed, the comfort that had once been hers to take, but the memory of how it had been cut out of her life was still too fresh to make that kind of a mistake.

    I’m so sorry. His voice sounded tight. We’re dealing with it. I promise you. We’re going after them. We won’t stop until we fix this. I’ll make sure they never hurt you again, Perdita.

    She forgot to avoid his eyes. What on earth do you mean, you won’t stop?

    His eyes narrowed. I’m going to make them pay. I’m doing this for you.

    Doing what exactly?

    Making you safe. His pupils dilated into black shells that reminded her of his grandfather. His mad grandfather. We’re going after him. Vin, I mean. We’re going to find him and end this once and for all.

    She was interested in spite of herself. You know where he is?

    Not exactly, but Willow’s leading the way. We’re not giving up this time. We’re going to make all of them pay, hunt down every last one of his pack.

    So you’re going to keep fighting? Keep chasing shadows, hoping for a war?

    "You don’t understand. We’re protecting you. All of you. You might not be… not be mine anymore, but I’m never letting them hurt you again. Hurt anyone I… hurt anyone. I won’t allow it." The last sentence was a growl that triggered the memories she wished she could forget.

    So more people have to suffer? More people have to die? Don’t you think you’ve done enough already?

    Her voice rose as the pressure and turmoil collided together in her brain. His expression changed, but she couldn’t pull back, couldn’t stop her emotions from flooding his.

    Why is there only ever violence with you people? Why can’t you even try to break the cycle? Someone innocent always gets hurt when werewolves get violent.

    Are you talking about Amelia’s behaviour after she shifted for the first time? She didn’t mean for that to happen. None of us did.

    She stared at him in disbelief, at how much of a non-occurrence his sister’s violent attack had been to him. She had nightmares about his family, while he glossed over what happened.

    Besides, he continued, apparently oblivious, this is for you as much as anyone else.

    No, thanks. I don’t want any more blood on my hands.

    Don’t, he said softly, reaching out a hand. Ryan said—

    She backed away from him. I don’t care what Ryan said!

    You’re the one who told me to trust him.

    "I know I did, and I know what you’re doing. But it’s… you’re becoming one of them. Don’t you see it?"

    They killed my parents, he said, his voice more of a growl than ever. Am I supposed to let that go?

    She looked away, full of regret at his obvious pain. She wanted to comfort him, to make it all okay, but those days were over. Ryan told her, too.

    I’m sorry about your parents, but I can’t believe they would want this life for you. For any of you. I know Lia didn’t want it. There’s a difference between protecting your family and looking for trouble.

    "There’s no other way, Perdita. The only way I can protect anyone is to get rid of the threat. This time for good."

    She couldn’t stop her body from trembling. He wasn’t her Nathan anymore.

    You saw how hard it was for me, and yet you still treat death so lightly? You’re not even trying to change the way things are. The only solution is violence, each and every time, and it’s always the ones who don’t want it who get hurt. Her lower lip quivered, and a lump in her throat threatened to break through her skin. Sometimes… sometimes I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, Nathan.

    She turned away before she begged him to stay.

    Nathan watched her walk away, leaving broken pieces of his heart in her wake. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. All he wanted was what they had before.

    She hated him, was truly disgusted with him, and now that the curse had been torn apart, there was nothing keeping her at his side. Her words cut deep, searing into his soul as he saw the truth of them. He saw what he would become, but all he could do for her now was to keep her alive.

    He preferred her alive to hate him than face the alternative, and he wasn’t so sure the wolves would ever leave her alone. Ryan’s word wasn’t enough of a guarantee.

    He followed her at a distance, slightly ashamed of himself, but unable to walk away for good until the very last second. That last glimpse of her would always be etched in his brain. He would have to keep it buried to get through whatever came at him next.

    He knew ending the curse was the right thing. He knew that was the way the world was supposed to work, but it had unbalanced every experience they had ever shared. He didn’t know if he could win her back, but he had to try. His wolf still recognised his mate, and that would never change for him.

    First, he had things to do: keeping her safe and getting rid of the hate that lived inside his chest. His wolf didn’t make it any easier, but at least his animal side would do anything to protect her, even if it meant doing the very things that would make her turn on him.

    But as the wolf mourned, the human had to stay in control, at least until faced with enemies.

    Then he could say goodbye to his humanity for a while. Then he could be the animal he was born to be. It was all he had left.

    And maybe one day, when the danger was gone, he could work at being normal.

    Ryan

    July


    Ryan stalked her through long grass, hidden in the shadows of overhanging trees. She pranced through the grass as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She was small but deceptively fast, so he upped his pace when hers increased slightly.

    Her scent filled his nostrils, and he couldn’t have walked away if he tried. He had to teach her a sorely needed lesson.

    A twig snapped to the right, and her head jerked around, sunlight turning what was brown into gold. Smothering a growl, he crept forward, preparing to pounce.

    She was gone in a flash, running on four legs into the distance before his hind legs could bend into a leap.

    Foolish girl. She couldn’t hide.

    The wolf to his right leaped through the undergrowth and onto the flat green area she had run to, but he would never catch her. She was too fast, already widening the distance between them.

    Ryan stood a chance. He had managed to catch up to her every other time. She hadn’t quite built up her stamina yet, but she was getting faster, smarter, and more attuned to her wolf side. He couldn’t let her win. Not yet.

    He didn’t hold back, and he was on her tail soon enough. She spun and twisted, turning and swerving to avoid his fangs. She feinted left, ducked right, and twirled around back the way she came. She faced the slower wolf then, her tongue hanging out in a wolfish grin as she easily dodged out of his way. Teasing him.

    She trotted daintily to her left and led them both on another merry chase, using everything he had taught her to keep out of their grasp. When she finally tired, Ryan was too weak himself to make much of an effort. She sat abruptly, watching him approach with what he knew was the wolf equivalent of a self-satisfied smirk.

    He snapped half-heartedly at her jaw before lying next to her, breathing heavily and enjoying how peaceful she made him feel. When she relaxed, they all did. She batted him with a paw, a distinctly human expression on her face, and relaxed, sinking to the ground on her belly.

    She had won. For the first time, she had beaten them both. Usually, one manoeuvred her into the other who then managed to take her down with ease. Not this time. She was almost ready.

    Byron was the last to join them, panting hard from the exertion. He licked his niece’s muzzle affectionately. Ryan looked away, seized by painful memories of his own stolen daughters.

    He had to admit to being proud of this baby werewolf. More than that, he was awestruck at being around a wolf he suspected of being an omega, a rarity amongst them. It didn’t seem possible that the wolves he had once fought against would have the only omega in existence, but he couldn’t deny how at ease he was around her.

    Ever since the first time he had changed forms, he had been consumed with a rage deep in his blood, the madness that buried itself deep inside each and every werewolf. The constant simmering of anger had never been fully appeased until this child had come into his life. Though a waif of a girl, she was turning out to be one of the most important things that had ever happened to him.

    He enjoyed helping her learn. His own change had been abrupt and dramatic, full of fear and loneliness and anger. It had taken him a long time to control his urges. The little she-wolf was surrounded by those who could lead her on the right path and teach her self-control and discipline.

    She had managed to control herself quickly once shown the way, despite her unexpectedly violent change. He envied her agility and the sharp intelligence of her wolf. The instinct was deeply bred in her, and she welcomed it with open arms.

    She had something he had never seen before: Becoming a wolf wasn’t a part of her, something to be discarded as soon as she was back on two legs. She was wolf, true wolf on two legs or four, and he knew she could be a great ally when the time came to fight. If he was right about the omega power, she could be the key to helping him bring his daughters home. She could be the balance the werewolves badly needed. All parts of the plan were fitting into place perfectly.

    Almost all.

    If only the boy would come home.

    Chapter 1

    Perdita

    Dublin


    A knock at my bedroom door startled me enough to run a line right through Nathan’s eyes. Hold on, I called out, covering the drawing.

    Gran glanced down at the lock as I opened the door. I was wondering if you wanted to come downstairs for lunch. You’ve been working hard all morning.

    I don’t know if—

    I could use the company, she added, knotting her fingers together as if in prayer.

    I wasn’t hungry. Eating had become something on a list of things to do everyday, but I knew I had been neglecting her. Fine. I’ll be down in a sec.

    She hesitated before jerking her chin into a nod and scurrying down the stairs. I tore up the last picture I had drawn, stuffed the scraps of paper into an overloaded bin, and followed her downstairs.

    She flitted about the kitchen like a nervous bird, and I wanted to tell her to relax, but my throat kept drying up.

    Any news? she asked with a plastered-on smile.

    I shrugged. I spent most of my time either at the hospital or at home. I didn’t have much to talk about.

    How’s the drawing going?

    Pushing food around my plate, I tried to cover a sigh. Okay.

    Phone calls, she blurted after a couple of moments of tense silence, and I realised she had been making a serious effort to draw me out. Phone calls. I knew there was something I meant to… Joey called to remind you about your work experience interview this afternoon. And Tammie called a number of times. She cleared her throat. Again.

    Thanks.

    Maybe you should talk to Tammie. She’s called so many times now that—

    She doesn’t really deserve it.

    I know, but she’s tried to be there for you since, well, since—

    I held up a hand to silence her. I get it. I’ll talk to her next time she calls, okay?

    She smiled gratefully, and the ache in my chest eased slightly.

    But if Joey calls again, tell him I’m not a child, and he’s not my father.

    Her smile grew warm. I think he’s excited that you’re getting back to yourself. They’ve missed seeing you lately.

    I’m grounded, remember?

    Her face fell. I know that, but—

    But nothing. Grounded means grounded. I only agreed to the work experience because Dad seemed to like the idea.

    My school had sent letters describing in great detail what would happen if any of my group of friends experienced any more suspicious absences in the next school term. When Dad said I was grounded until I moved out, I totally believed him. Work experience at the local public library would be my only opportunity to go outside alone once he came home from the hospital.

    Well, I’m sure he’ll calm down eventually, Gran said brightly, ever the optimist. Once he gets home, everything will start getting back to normal. He’ll soon see he’s overreacting about Nathan and Amelia.

    I stood abruptly. Nathan’s gone, so it doesn’t even matter what Dad’s rules are anymore. I don’t care about that anyway. I have to get back to work.

    It’s your summer holidays, Perdy.

    Yeah, well, I need to work on my portfolio. Pad it so I’ve something to show at the end of the school year. I need the practice anyway. I’ve a lot of catching up to do.

    She got to her feet. You’ll be happier once your dad’s home. She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself.

    Dad wasn’t any better, still freakishly weak from a werewolf bite that everyone thought had come from a wild dog. All I got from him lately was anger, and when he came home, there would be nowhere to hide from the tension and awkwardness that had swallowed our lives.

    As if she knew what I was thinking, Gran patted my arm. You’re not still blaming yourself, are you, love?

    I shook my head. Of course not. I just have stuff to do.

    I ignored the lost expression on her face and returned to my room. I sketched for a little while, doing my best not to think too much about the subject matter. It was strange how blocked I had been under the influence of the curse. Once that had been broken, the emotion flooded out of me through the media of pencil and paint. I drew and painted, and my wrists ached every day, but I still kept going.

    I couldn’t stop.

    The paintings were so dark that they sometimes scared me, but they were my best work ever. It had taken heartbreak and pain to draw out what I had always fully intended to express in every shadow. It was exhilarating.

    Except for the reminders. He was in every painting, one way or another. Whether a shadow or a figure, a wolf or a pair of eyes, his presence was unmistakable.

    Scrunching up a page, I decided to drop the drawing and get ready for my interview. My cousin Joey had been the one to come up with the idea in the first place, and he had put my name down without asking me. Dad’s reaction had sealed the deal. I didn’t have much interest in the library, but seeing as my presence seemed to depress my father, and he appeared momentarily happy at the idea of me doing work experience there, I figured it would help if I stayed out of his way as much as possible.

    I practiced smiling in the mirror. Joey had made a point of telling me I looked so miserable that it made him physically sick, and I had decided that wasn’t the Perdy I wanted to be anymore. If I didn’t think about Nathan, I would be fine.

    Perfect.

    I strolled to the library after listening to my grandmother’s overly enthusiastic wishes of good luck. We all already knew that I’d be getting the work experience slot. Nobody else wanted it.

    The breeze was cool enough to lift goose bumps on my skin, but the day was nice enough. Still, I found myself constantly looking over my shoulder. Nathan might have been gone and the werewolves fighting their battles elsewhere, but I never felt safe anymore. Not for a second. Breaking the curse didn’t change how I saw the world. It didn’t make me forget the dangers out there.

    No. No thinking. Perfect smiling happy face only.

    As soon as I stepped into the musty library, I realised why nobody wanted to work there. The place was pretty disgusting, all dust and weird damp old book smells. Every surface looked as though it needed a good scrub.

    A sudden hacking cough tore through the silence and made me stumble. I frantically glanced around to see who was there and almost died with terror when an ancient old lady appeared to rise up from behind the counter like a decrepit bride of Dracula. Her face was a perfect example of crankiness, and my heart sank. I automatically gave her my best smile, but maybe I was a little too eager because she looked slightly repulsed.

    Um, I-I’m here to interview for the work experience p-placement, I stuttered.

    She looked away and coughed into a handkerchief. You’re late.

    Um, I don’t think—

    "You’ll arrive at eight forty-five every single morning.

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